


White Collar Drabble Meme Part Deux Fills

by angel



Series: Drabble/Ficlet Meme Fills [4]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Dancing, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 10:47:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2147862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel/pseuds/angel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fills for my White Collar Drabble Meme Part Deux.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Neal, a Mark Chagall painting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pooh_collector requested: Neal, a Mark Chagall painting

Neal ignored Peter's watchful eyes as he slowly made his way through the new Marc Chagall exhibit at The Jewish Museum. The colorful paintings weren't Peter's cup of tea, but Neal loved them. The imagination and feeling behind them transcended everything – time, culture, the creator, the viewer.

One particular painting stood out to him, and Neal returned to it once he had seen all of the others. It was of a couple surrounded by a bouquet of flowers above the sea. On the side, one person was trying to touch the bouquet while another was falling or diving from it. 

Neal startled when someone cleared their throat beside him, and he turned to find Peter standing there with his head cocked, examining the painting. 

"Why this one?" Peter asked.

"It's gorgeous. The colors, the way the couple stands out from the rest, the brush strokes here and here." Neal gestured as best he could, wishing that he could actually touch the painting. "There's a sadness to the surroundings but the couple are in it together. They're holding each other close while others try to get in but can't."

Peter's hand fell on his shoulder and squeezed. Neal leaned in to the gesture as much as he could in the public space. 

"We'll always let you in."

Neal gave him a soft smile and a quick nod. "Thank you."

(To view the painting, please click [here](http://uploads3.wikipaintings.org/images/marc-chagall/couple-and-fish-1964.jpg))


	2. Peter, cologne (h/c)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> citrinesunset requested: Peter, cologne

Peter sits up a little straighter in his hospital bed when he hears the door open and catches the scent of Neal's cologne. It's a smell that instantly makes him feel less alone and much less scared. 

"Hey," Neal's voice is soft and hesitant.

Peter doesn't say anything but holds out his hand until Neal's smooth palm slides against his. Peter tightens his grip and frowns when he feels that Neal's fingers are ice cold and shaking. "It's going to be okay," he says, but the words sound hollow.

"This is not okay." Neal tries to pull away but Peter holds tight.

"Hey, I'm here. I'm alive, and I'm not going anywhere. So, I've lost my-"

"Don't say it! Please."

Peter sighs and tugs Neal closer. The younger man refuses to sit on the bed but does give Peter his other hand. "This isn't your fault."

"I should have been there," Neal replies. 

"Then you would have been hurt too. Look at it this way: Keller's never going to hurt anyone again. Diana and Jones made sure of that."

Neal makes a sound that Peter can't bear, and he pulls on Neal's hands until he can hold him in his arms. Less than a week ago, Keller had drawn the team into a game of cat and mouse. He'd separated Peter from the others, and then attacked him. Peter didn't remember the incident, but he'd been found unconscious and rushed to the hospital. 

The only permanent injury was the loss of his sight, which Peter is still in shock about. Elizabeth is being strong, taking the news with stoicism so far. Neal had disappeared for almost a full twenty-four hours, but he's back now, and Peter can face anything as long as they are both by his side.

~End


	3. Neal, university

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> eldorah requested: Neal, university

Neal was intrigued by the older gentleman sitting in the back of his afternoon Scandinavian History and Mythology class. He wasn't a student – no one could join six weeks into the semester without permission from him, and even then, it would be very strange – so Neal had to resign himself to waiting until class was over to speak with the man. 

He finished his lecture on the Poetic Edda and gave out assignments before dismissing everyone. Keeping an eye on the man wasn't hard, since he didn't move until all of the students had gone.

"Mr. Caffrey?"

"Dr. Caffrey," Neal corrected, unable to stop himself. 

"I'm sorry. Dr. Caffrey, I'm Special Agent Peter Burke with the FBI's White Collar division. We need your help."

"What can I do for the FBI?"

"The Met is gearing up for an exhibit on Viking art, and they received several pieces this week that they think might be forgeries. You're considered an expert on Oseberg style, so we'd appreciate it if you could come and take a look at the pieces."

Neal adjusted his glasses and flashed the agent a smile. "I'd be honored to help out the FBI in any way that I can."

"Great. Do you have time now?"

"Lead the way." Neal made sure to stay behind the agent as they exited the classroom so that he could send off a quick text to his best friend Mozzie. _Abort Oseberg. The Man is watching_.

~End


	4. Neal, cronut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sinfulslasher requested: Neal, cronut

The sounds Neal was making bordered on the obscene. If the man hadn't been sitting less than two feet from him, Peter would have assumed he was having the best jerk off session of his life. 

"Neal-"

"You have to try this, Peter!"

"What is it?"

"A cronut."

"That's not a word."

"No, it's the eighth wonder of the world. Seriously, you have to try this."

Peter reached for the small piece that Neal hadn't consumed yet but got his hand smacked away. "Neal!"

"I'll go and get you one. And a second one for me. I'll be right back. In like an hour. There's a line. See you later!"

Neal was out of the car before Peter could stop him. So much for their stakeout. 

The radio sitting on the dash crackled to life and Jones' voice came through. "Where's Caffrey going?"

Peter sighed but responded, "To get something called a cronut."

"A cronut? No way! He'd better bring me one too!"

~End


	5. dancing, Diana or Neal? (Or Diana and Neal?) (Unbreakable 'verse)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sheenianni requested: Unbreakable, dancing, Diana or Neal? (Or Diana and Neal?)

Jones' wedding to Vivian was a small affair held in Central Park. Afterwards, everyone retired back to June's for the reception in Neal's old apartment, where Vivian loved both the terrace and view. 

Neal, Diana, Christie, Peter and Elizabeth sat at a table in the corner and watched as Jones and Viv danced their first dance as a married couple. Everyone but Christie, who was very pregnant with a baby girl, had hit the bar, so they were laughing and cheering loudly.

The music changed to a different slow song and others started getting on the dance floor. Elizabeth hopped out of her chair and pulled Peter up as well. "Let's dance, Hon."

Neal stood and held a hand out to Diana. "C'mon."

"Go," Christie said when Diana looked over at her. "I'm not moving from this chair any time soon."

Diana laughed and took Neal's hand. He led her a few feet away and pulled her close. They swayed together for a moment before Neal started to sing along with the song. 

"You know that you're going to have to record a lullaby track for the baby, right?" she said when he quieted, having forgotten some of the lyrics.

He chuckled and nodded. "If you want."

"Oh, Christie will insist when she hears that voice."

Neal grinned. "You're going to be great moms. She's a lucky little girl."

"We want you to be there too, you know. But you can't teach her to pick locks. Or cheat at cards. Or sleight of hand tricks."

"I will not teach her any such thing, Agent Berrigan."

She narrowed her eyes. "Do I have to have this same talk with Mozzie?"

Neal immediately laughed so hard he almost fell over.

~End


	6. Peter, my beautiful (Neal/Peter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kanarek13 requested: Peter, my beautiful

Neal and Peter lay in bed, legs tangled together and chests heaving as they came down from the high of orgasm. Neal was the first to move, rolling onto his side and propping his head up on his hand. He grinned down at Peter and put his free hand on Peter's chest right over his still racing heart.

"What are you smiling about?"

"You're beautiful," Neal said softly. "My beautiful."

Peter beamed and pulled him into a kiss. "You're not so bad yourself, but it's this," he put his hand over Neal's heart, "that makes me fall in love with you more every day."

"I thought that was the part you were most concerned about it."

"No, that's up here." Peter tapped a finger against Neal's temple. "Your heart's in the right place."

"Now that I've met you."

"Mmhmm."

"Love you."

"Ditto."

~End


	7. Neal, nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> doctor_fangeek requested: Neal, nightmares

Neal woke up screaming. He all but fell out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom where he dry heaved over the toilet for a minute. He'd learned not to eat anything in the last few hours before he went to bed to avoid the worst of this situation. The horrible images in his head wouldn't stop repeating for a while after he was fully awake.

Eventually, he splashed water on his face, changed out of his sweat-soaked pajama pants and t-shirt, and walked back into his living room to find something to occupy his time. He was setting up his easel and paints when there was a quick rap at the door in dactylic pentameter. 

"Come in, Moz."

"You should be sleeping."

Neal shrugged and put brush to canvas. Dark swirls started to overtake the stark white cloth. 

"I saw the light on," Mozzie said into the silence. "You can't keep doing this. I wish you'd let me set up an appointment with Sally's sister."

"I don't need a shrink."

"Me and the moon beg to differ." 

Neal rubbed his hand over the taut muscles in his neck and rolled his shoulders. "You've talked to her?"

"Yeah. She's good, mon frère. I promise."

Neal bit his lip and nodded. "All right then. Set it up."

"You've made the right decision." Mozzie smiled. "Now, where's that bottle of Pinot Noir?"

~End


End file.
